


Semper Fidelis

by MandalaMoons



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Drama, Family Drama, Minor Noctis Lucis Caelum/Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Modern Royalty, Multi, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2019-09-17 18:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16979583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MandalaMoons/pseuds/MandalaMoons
Summary: “You don’t know anything.” Noctis hisses, venom flooding from his voice as he gazes at his father from within the meeting room. His breathing is harsh, his chest heaving sharply as he stares defiantly at the 113 th King of the Lucian Line.“Noctis,” Regis says softly, his tone a mix of both sympathy and frustration. “There are no other options. You will go to Altissia and wed Lady Lunafreya. It must be done to keep the peace between Niflheim and the Crown City. Many kingdoms have fallen, many lives have been lost. Your union will put an end to that.”The King stands tall, firm, and for a moment, Noctis feels as if they don’t know one another, as if he’s just a mere steward in his King’s court.“The decision is final. You will wed Lady Lunafreya.”All the air comes out of his lungs, and for a moment, he’s drowning.Drowning would be a relief.“Yes, your Majesty.”





	1. Chapter 1

_When Noctis is eight years old, he decides that he very much loves the sea. The trip to Altissia had been very much a surprise to the young boy. He assumes that it’s some sort of meeting, though for what he can’t fathom. His father is often away on meetings, but this, this time is special, because he’s invited Noctis to come along. That alone is worth it, even if he does have to wear the scratchy suit that his father insisted made him look very handsome._  

_“Dad,” he says softly, “Why are we on a boat? Couldn’t we have taken the car?”_

_Regis lifts an eyebrow to glance at Noctis mischievously, “While the Regalia is many things, it’s definitely not a boat. Besides, you’ll like Altissia, it’s very pretty. Some say the Tidemother lives under the water, sleeping quietly.”_

_At the ponderous look on Noctis’ face, Regis laughs, ruffling his hair, “Look, we’re almost there.”_  

_Offering Noctis his hand, he stands and points to the entrance of Altissia, beautiful statues glimmering in the sun as they pass beneath them. Regis spares a glance at his young son and smiles at the awe in his expression. The royal family of Altissia must be as eager to meet them. The arrangement of a marriage between the Altissian royal family and his own would be prosperous, or so he hopes, uniting the three kingdoms together would only serve to protect them all from the growing threat of Niflheim as it looms over Eos like a dark stormcloud._

_“Woah dad, look!” Noctis says, suddenly bounding away from his grasp to point eagerly at the city. It’s just as beautiful as Regis remembers, glittering white and gold. People on smaller skips and fisherman wave kindly to them, and he waves back._

_“Pretty, isn’t it?”he calls. Noctis turns and for a brief moment, Regis can see true joy in the boy’s eyes and whispers up a fervent prayer to the TideMother that the joy stays once he meets the young duchess to whom he will be engaged to._

_During his last telephone call with the Empress, there was news that the young girl was not well. Her mother sounded beside herself, worry creeping into her tone with every breath. “If she is not a good match for the young prince any longer, we understand…”_

_“Nonsense Aliquia..we will let the children meet, and then we can decide.”_

_And yet, he can’t help but fret over the idea. Everyone had assumed the older sister, Ceno would be the chosen of the TideMother. She was soft and educated, with an air of quiet dignity beyond her years, not the younger sister. However, she was eight years older than Noctis, and Regis thought perhaps it would be best if the young prince had someone who could share his life and burdens. And thus, it had been decided that Solia would marry Noctis, able to help shoulder his destiny, should it ever come to meet him._  

_“Noctis,” he calls suddenly, “My boy, come here.”_  

_His son turns, rushing up to his father with a smile, and Regis kneels down. “Now, before we dock, how must you address the royal family?”_

_Noctis ponders this for a moment, placing a small fist behind his back, and then another on the center of his chest, and bows, a little too deeply, but the sincerity of it makes him smile._

_When the ship docks, they make their way towards the palace, Noctis nearly becoming distracted by a gelato stand, but thankfully Regis is able to reel him in as the palace guards open the gate and bow to him._  

_“Dad,” Noctis says, and already Regis can hear the beginning of a question on his lips, “Why do all the guards here wear blue?”_

_It’s true too, the guards are all dressed immaculately in pale blues and gold, and he smiles. “Well, this light blue is a sacred color to the Altissian nobility, like black is to us.”_  

_Seemingly satisfied with another answer to chew upon, Noctis falls silent, and they’re brought to the throne room. The palace is much more delicate than the citadel, outfited in pale whites and blues, and several small fountains grace the halls, forever a reminder of the sacred goddess of the sea._

_They’re brought into the throne room by a rather surly looking guard and Noctis gasps upon entering. The throne room is filled with sunlight and large windows illuminating every part of the room. The throne itself is silver and adorned with what looks like waves that crest upwards like the petals of a delicate flower. The blue and gold carpet too welcomes them and they walk forth._  

_The woman at the throne smiles and stands. Her dress is delicate and light gold, though her sleeves reach the floor like an elegant kimono, and when she opens her arms to them, the inside of her sleeves are the same pale blue.“King Regis, it is so good to see you!” she says, offering him a smile, “Forgive me for not meeting you at the docks.”_  

_“It’s no matter at all.” He says gently, enclining his head towards her. “Altissia is quite lovely in spring, lots of fishermen out and about.”_  

_She laughs, a throaty light noise and she makes her way down from the steps, and Regis moves forward to offer her his arm. She clasps it gladly and smiles at Noctis, who is rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet._

_“Hello, little prince!” she says gently, bowing her head. The circlet on her head captures his attention for a moment, gold, with small antlers that protrude upwards and glitter in the light. However, Regis clears his throat expectantly and Noctis remembers himself, placing a hand behind his back and one on the center of his chest and bows quite deeply._

_The queen makes a delighted noise. “Oh how wonderful little prince! You do Altissia proud with your regal bowing!”_

_She beams at him, and he beams back. She has a kindly face, and Noctis is grateful for it. She takes Noctis’ hands in her own and kisses them, and for the briefest moment, Noctis wishes she was his mother._  

_“Mama, may I…oh! Forgive me!” a bright voice says, and Noctis turns to see a young girl a little older than him. Her golden hair is pushed back with a ribbon and she quickly assesses the situation, and steps back._  

_“Come here, Cee,” the queen says gently, extending a hand to her. The girl takes it, her blue dress fluttering elegantly as she walks. She’s much taller than Noctis and he looks at his father uncertainly. Regis however, smiles._

_“This is my daughter Ceno,” Alquia says, smiling down at Noctis as she places her hands on the girl’s shoulder. “She is the eldest, and heir to the crown of Altissa, just as you are, Prince Noctis.”_

_Noctis bows again, and the girl gives him a curtsey in much the same fashion smiling softly._  

_“You’ve grown up so pretty Ceno,” his father says, “but please, don’t let me interrupt your urgent questioning to your mother.”_  

_She turns to her mother, who smiles down at her daughter and Ceno clears her throat, “May I make cookies with one of the servants? Sir Milo is offering to teach me, and I want to send some to Lord Ravus.”_

_She nods gently, “Why don’t you also make some for your sister and Noctis? I’m sure your sister would love to get her hands on a cookie or three.”_

_As she disappears out of the throne room, Regis chuckles, “Ah young love. She’s quite fond of Ravus from what it seems.”_

_Alquia smiles and shakes her head, a hand moving to rub her temples, “Ah yes, she’s constantly writing letters to him these days. You know, he sent her a photo of him at her request and she sleeps with it under her pillow, for her, the wedding day can’t come soon enough.”_  

_Regis laughs, “Well, for Prince Noctis’ sake, I hope the Grand Duchess Solia won’t be too eager to jump ship just yet.”_

_However, at the mention of Solia, the Queen’s cheerful visage droops considerably, “She’s not herself anymore Regis, she’s always been headstrong, and stubborn, but this…she keeps herself locked away at the altar of the goddess day and night…she barely speaks to anyone. She’s so distant, and all the priests say to just give it time, but I fear-”_

_Regis holds up his hand, and she nods. He kneels down to Noctis’ level, and straightens the lapels on his little suit. “Prince Noctis, you’re going to meet your betrothed today. But, she’s very sad, so please don’t be upset if she’s not very communicative with you.”_

_But, when Noctis speaks, it’s the Queen he looks to, “How come she’s sad? Is it because I’m here?”_  

_It would be understandable, Noctis thinks, to meet a new person. Maybe she’s just shy, and scared of people. Noctis is familiar with that. He thinks about his friend Ignis, who he was a little scared of at first. Now though, they’re good friends and sometimes Ignis reads to him or helps him get candy off of the top shelf in the kitchens, though he’s sworn Noctis to a vow of secrecy._

_“Oh no,” Alquia says, shaking her head, “No…I think…little prince, that she’s feeling very lonely right now. Would you like to meet her?”_

  _Noctis nods and the queen takes his hand. He glances back at his father who nods encouragingly and Noctis listens quietly as the queen points out all the different places in the palace._

_“These are our gardens,” she says, leading Noctis to a large sunlit room, not unlike the greenhouse at the Citadel, though he sees several flowers he doesn’t recognize. “Solia likes the garden a lot.”_  

_“Me too!” Noctis says cheerfully._

_The queen smiles down at him, and he smiles back at her. At the edge of the gardens, there is a small girl sitting with her feet in the pond her back turned to them. She gazes at the statue above her, then kicks childishly in the water._  

_“Solia darling,” Alquia says softly, “Come here. There’s someone very important you must meet.”_

_The girl glances at them, then turns away, and Noctis can feel the Queen’s body tighten considerably like his father’s does before he goes into the throne room._

_“Solia, please, come here. Prince Noctis has traveled a very long way to meet you.”_

_But Noctis remembers his father’s words, and he lets go of the Queen’s hand. Her hand hangs suspended in the air, but Noctis pays no mind as he steps forward. There’s a sudden breeze and Noctis can smell the queen’s perfume in the air as the wind pulls him forward._

_When he reaches her he bows, though she doesn’t look up at him. “Hello, Princess Solia, my name is Noctis. I know it’s really scary to meet new people…but I hope we can be friends!”_

_The water in the small pond suddenly laps up quite forcefully, and the girl turns. Her eyes are unique, one green, and the other blue, and Noctis smiles at her, offering her his hand. Her brown hair is shorter than her sister’s and is tied back into a braid. She looks nice, but scared and Noctis tries to smile encouragingly._

_“I don’t bite.”_  

_She stares at him, and takes his hand in hers, allowing him to pull her up to her feet._

_A few feet away, the Queen’s breath hitches in her throat. “Thank the gods.” She whispers watching carefully as the two introduce themselves._

_“I told you, it would be fine.” Regis says gently, “She probably just needed someone her own age.”_

_“Did you like the boat?” Solia asks, looking at Noctis quite curiously, she’s a little taller than him but not by much._

_“Yeah!” he says enthusiastically, “It’s really fun, I felt kind of sick at first, but I got used to it.”_

_She suddenly smiles at him, “Come on! Let’s go ask if you can come fishing with us! It’s so fun. Papa is coming home tomorrow and you should come out with us!”_

_Then, she frowns, and Noctis wonders if he’s got something gross on his face. It is windy, maybe his nose started running._  

_“Prince Noctis…” she says._

_“Yeah?”_

_“You’re still holding my hand.”_

 

* * *

 

When the Regalia hits a particularly sharp bump Noctis is jolted awake, his head slamming along the edge of the door and he groans. Ignis, his ever vigilant retainer slows down the car, his gaze concerned in the rearview mirror though Noctis doesn’t meet his gaze. 

“Sorry about that Noct,” he calls before tapping on the brake and allowing the young prince to become acclimated again. However, Noctis pays no mind, instead clenching his fist sharply, trying to shake the feeling of a warm hand in his own.

Thinking of the former Altissian princess hurts, and he frowns, staring at his hand. It would be so easy to fall into sleep, to fall into those dreams of days that were lost to him, sleep, and maybe never wake up.

The morbidity of the thought surprises him, and he shakes his head to be free of it, earning a worried glance from the Shield sitting to his right.

“You alright, Highness?” he asks gruffly, turning another page of his yellowed book, and Noctis nods, squinting into the bright sunlight as they pass miles of unending desert.

“Just a dream.” He says, voice floating off into the wind. He’s aware of Gladiolus watching him still, feeling the prickle of his gaze on the back of his neck, but he shakes it aside.

“How long was I out?” he asks.

It’s Prompto who responds, turning around on his knees to face the other male. Noctis swears he can hear Ignis grumble something about taking a seat, but the overeager blonde doesn’t pay him any mind.

“Couple hours,” the blonde says non-committally with a wave of his hand, “Did ya sleep okay?”

“No.” Noctis answers honestly. 

Prompto frowns, “Well, soon enough we’ll be-” 

But before he can finish his statement, Noctis’ phone rings, Cindy’s name flashing on the touchscreen, unfortunately, Prompto too also notices this, and makes a notion to reach for Noctis’ phone, causing the Prince to slap irritatedly at his companion.

“Aw come on du-”

“Hey, Cindy,” Noctis says, a hand pushing on the blonde’s forearm trying to push him back into his seat. Gladiolus continues reading while Ignis sputters something about unsafe driving habits. Noctis switches ears, surprised when he hears a gruff voice answer.

“You boys mind headin’ to Meldacio for me?”

For a moment, Noctis groggily wonders if Cid’s just gotten ahold of Cindy’s phone, but after a few moments, it clicks. 

“Dave!” he says suddenly, ignoring Prompto’s disappointed gaze as he slumps back down in his seat. “Why are you calling from Cindy’s phone?” 

“In a bit of trouble,” he drawls, “Lookin’ for a hunter of mine. I’ve been on a hunt out here near the outpost, Sabertooth causing a mean hit of trouble. Another hunter of mine was supposed to handle it, but they haven’t shown up.” 

Noctis frowns, half considering declining the plea, to go to Meldacio would require them to turn around and drive for a few miles if he wasn’t mistaken. But, Dave had helped them a lot, and what if someone was seriously hurt or their families needed the tags?

“Sure.” He says after a moment.

“Don’t got much time,” Dave says gruffly, “Thank you kindly, boys.”

Hanging up the phone, Noctis sighs.

“A-are Cindy and Dave…a _thing_?” Prompto whispers, sounding utterly aghast at the idea. 

“Doubt it.” Gladio responds, “Still though, what’d he want?”

Noctis doesn’t respond for a moment, letting the wind ruffle through his hair. He’s tired, tired of all the death, doesn’t want to see another dead hunter’s mangled clothing caked in blood, to pick up half broken tags, only pieces left.

Even still, he stretches out his arms. “He was out on a hunt near Hammerhead. Guess Cindy is just one of the few people with a phone around there. He wants us to head back to Meldacio, track down his hunter from there.”

“Very well,” Ignis says, making a prompt U-turn.

“Must be a valuable hunter if Dave’s making such a call personally,” Gladio says. Noctis makes a small hum of agreement, resting his head on his palm so that he might possibly be able to nap again, and forget the stench of death that fills his memory and his nostrils. The sight of Talcott’s crying face, of Iris’ distress.

_“You don’t know anything.” Noctis hisses, venom flooding from his voice as he gazes at his father from within the meeting room. His breathing is harsh, his chest heaving sharply as he stares defiantly at the 113_ _ th _ _King of the Lucian Line._

_“Noctis,” Regis says softly, his tone a mix of both sympathy and frustration. “There are no other options. You will go to Altissia and wed Lady Lunafreya. It must be done to keep the peace between Niflheim and the Crown City. Many kingdoms have fallen, many lives have been lost. Your union will put an end to that.”_

_The King stands tall, firm, and for a moment, Noctis feels as if they don’t know one another, as if he’s just a mere steward in his King’s court._

_“The decision is final. You will wed Lady Lunafreya.”_

_All the air comes out of his lungs, and for a moment, he’s drowning._

_Drowning would be a relief._

_“Yes, your Majesty.”_

It’s dusk when they arrive at Meldacio HQ, though one wouldn’t be able to tell due to the rain. Noctis has been in and out of sleep thoughout the journey, his rest irregular. Twice, Gladio had caught Ignis’ worried gaze in the rearview mirror, but he shakes his head.

He has endured much, andGladio figures that even the Crown Prince of Lucis could take a bit of a breather. The new scar above his eyebrows stings a little, and he avoids the temptation to touch it as Ignis expertly settles into a dirt parking space, the sick sound of mud clinging to the wheels.

“Oi, Noct.” He says, nudging the raven-haired man with his elbow. “Look alive.”

Noctis shakes his head sharply, mumbling something before scratching at the back of his neck halfheartedly. He exits the car with a groan, rolling his eyes in disgust as his boots sink into the marshy ground below. 

“I’ll _never_ get used to that.”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” Prompto agrees, his hands languidly going to run through his fallen hair. Noctis himself doesn’t even want to think about how his own hair looks. 

However, before he can make a comment, an old woman is marching towards them, her hands trembling with her walking stick, and Noctis recognizes her as Ezma. He moves forward to help her, offer her his hand, but she stops him.

“Perhaps Dave sent the wrong people, if a little mud dampens your spirits.”

“We’re fine.” Noctis says sharply, shaking his head. “Did Dave send us here to look for tags?”

Ezma takes her time to move back to her small space outside the headquarters, sitting in her rocking chair and slowly beginning to move back and forth, the chair creaking. The group follows her, glancing at one another before moving up the steps.

“Not for tags no.” She says after a moment, “We think this one is alive.”

Her gnarled hands reach into a small pouch at her side, and she produces a worn photograph, handing it to the Prince.

The photo is in black and white, depicting the portrait of a young woman, her eyes solemn and focused as she gazes at the camera, her hair cut in a sharp bob ending at her chin.

“That’s a pretty harsh scar,” Gladio says from behind Noctis’ shoulder, and he nods in agreement. The scar begins on the underside of her jawline, stretching up and thinning out until it crosses over her nose.

“Yeah,” Prompto says, “Could give you a run for your money Gladio.”

 He snorts derisively while Ezma gazes at them impassively, her face firm and unemotional.

 It’s Ignis who breaks the tension, pushing up his glasses as takes the photo from Noctis’ fingers.The edges of the photo are soft and frayed, and he gazes at it a moment before turning towards the old woman. 

“You believe she is alive?” he says, his tone betraying nothing.

Ezma gives him a short nod, firm and full of command. “Yes. We do. We call her Leia.”

“Leia?” Prompto says, tasting the name on his tongue.

“Yes. She’s Dave’s adopted daughter. She knows these parts like the back of her hand, and there’s not much out there in the marshes that could hurt her.”

She motions towards the caravan, where a lone black chocobo is tied to a stake in the ground. It prunes nervously at its feathers, crooning softly into the dusk every few seconds. Instead of a saddle, there’s an elegantly embroidered blue cloth on it’s back. For a moment, it catches sight of Noctis and lets out a panicked screech, flapping its wings furiously, talons stomping in the mud.

 “That’s Icarus, her Chocobo, came back last night without her, and has been panicked ever since. Doubt he would have left her had something happened.”

 “Think he could help lead us to her?” Prompto asks.

She takes off her glasses, pressing the earpiece against her chin as she does so. “I think it could be worth a try. You’ll have to earn his trust though. Rest up, find her in the morning.”

Noctis however, shakes his head. “No. We can’t leave her overnight, something could happen.”

His quick statement startles his comrades who watch him curiously. It’s not like him to leap into action so soon.

“We’ll leave as soon as possible.” 

“Uh Noct,” Prompto says as the Prince moves away from the steps and towards the black chocobo, who watches him with a narrowed, golden eye. “You may have napped but, we didn’t exactly get to, and uh, there’s daemons out at night.”

“Exactly,” Noctis replies, edging towards the bird with an uncharacteristic focus, “What if she gets killed?”

“This isn’t like you.” Ignis murmurs, gaze turned towards the sky, rain spattering his glasses. 

“Aren’t you sick of people dying?” Noctis hisses suddenly, “Aren’t you sick of families being torn apart, like Jared…and Talcott? I don’t want to find any more tags.” 

“Enough,” Gladio responds. “We can handle going out for one night.”

“I’ll stock up on curatives,” Ignis responds promptly, “Gladio, weaponry, please.” 

“Got it.” 

The two elders of the group disperse, leaving Noctis and Prompto to stare at the large black bird only a few feet away. Neither one wants to move towards the strange animal. 

“Uh, is it me, or does this one seem a little bigger than the ones at Wiz’s Outpost?”

“A little.” Noctis replies, “Not much though. Got any feed on you? We rented those chocobos last week, and I noticed you snagged some of that fat chocobo feed when the others weren’t looking.”

“Hey man, I gotta be prepared for Chocobos. Don’t tell Ignis.” Prompto whispers dramatically, fishing in his pocket for a crinkled bag of feed, nearly half empty. The bird perks up, gazing at the two of them in such a way that Noctis can’t help but feel a little on edge.

“Man, you remind me a lot of that chocobo who stole Ignis’ glasses.” Noctis murmurs, “Was that you boy?”

The bird croons softly, swiping at the mud as its eyes dart towards the bag of feed.

“No,” Noctis continues, slowly tiptoeing towards the animal, “You’re way too big, huh Icarus? We’re gonna go look for your mom, but, we need some help. Wanna help? There’s some snacks in it for you.”

Noctis waves the bag in front of the bird, edging forward. He’s bracing himself just in case, fully prepared to phase away should the chocobo get a little too eager for comfort. He moves until he’s only half a foot away from the great bird, opening the bag to offer a few greens.

As Prompto sucks in a breath, the bird dips his majestic head downward, eating surprisingly gently from Noctis’ hand, careful not to pinch skin or unsettle him. He reaches up to pet the crown of feathers on Icarus’ head, unable to keep himself from smiling.

“Attaboy.” He praises, “Come on Prompto, he’s okay!”

Quicker than he means to, Prompto bounds forward, reaching out to touch Icarus’ rump. The bird rumbles contentedly, searching for more greens.

“Mind if I give him the rest of this?” Noctis asks.

“Sure thing.” The blonde replies. “Seems like he’s pretty tame.”

Noctis hums in response, offering the open bag to the bird. He eats heartily, and the Prince pets him again. When the bag is empty, the bird seems much calmer and Noctis offers a reassuring pet to his beak, noting the divets along the top.

“Been through a lot haven’t you boy?” he says quietly, “Me too.”

Carefully, he unties the chocobo’s lead from the stake, holding him just as Ignis and Gladio return, weapons and tonics in tow.

“All set?” Gladio asks, motioning to the bird.

Noctis pats the bird gently, making an effort to appease it. Icarus lets out a soft noise of contentment, and Noctis sighs, pleased with himself. Perhaps he’s done better than he anticipated?

“Yeah, you?” he says in response to the Shield, his voice quiet amid the slowly darkening night. The sound of rain against mud is almost loud and he lets out a sharp, sudden sigh. “Wish this rain would let up though. Ignis?”

“Here, your Majesty,” says his royal retainer, voice smooth as silk. “I believe I’ve purchased enough.” 

“Let’s hit it.” Noctis says, grasping the lead on the bird and pulling it gently towards the path on foot. The rain is unrelenting as they walk. In these past few months of wandering Eos, Noctis has learned to be on edge, to anticipate every sound and shadow near the corner of his eye. It had nearly cost him life and limb in more than one way.

“Ahh this sucks,” Prompto says, and Noctis notes Gladio’s snort of derision towards the other man. “Why are we walking?” 

“Because,” Gladio responds, unable to contain himself. “It’s not like this Chocobo can track it’s owner while we drive the car.

“Ohh, good point.”

Noctis continues to walk, a hand patting the side of the chocobo’s neck, feeling the smooth gloss of feathers there, willing his thoughts not to turn to Jared or Talcott. Sure, he was grateful that they’d gotten the two of them to Caem in one piece, but with the wedding looming closer, Noctis’ anxieties only grew. 

He convinced the others to hold off on Altissia, at least for a little while to find more of the Tombs that encased the powers of the former Kings. It would do him well to be prepared, especially if he needed to protect Lunafreya through her own duties, at least, that’s how he was convincing himself.

“Vesperpool’s not far.” Gladio comments, and Noctis nods, noting the tenseness in the bird’s neck, his pupils narrowing as he begins to stomp his feet. The Prince skips out of the way, all the while trying to contain the bird’s temper. Icarus pulls, his eyes wild, pupils mere slits of black in gold. Before any of the four can restrain the beast, he lets out a mighty screech, suddenly taking off into the thicket of moss and trees.

Unthinkingly, Noctis throws his dagger towards the bird, careful not to hit it, warping behind before scurrying after the black flush of feathers.He can vaguely hear Ignis’ command to follow the Prince, though he pays no mind, rushing towards the sound of the bird’s footsteps. He brushes through wet grass and leaves, paying no mind to the wet dew on his skin.

When he finally reaches the swampy waters of the Vesperpool he notes that Icarus is screeching mightily, flapping his wings in irritation towards what looks like a pack of no more than three goblins, hunched over a fallen figure, their body half in the murky water.

“Over here!” he calls, voice thick with dread.

Prompto bursts through the thicket first, leaves stuck rather comically on the crown of his head. He fires, just as Noctis takes a swipe at another goblin with a polearm, trying desperately not to hit the wounded body below them. 

The goblin cackles maddeningly at him, kicking its little feet up towards him and waving its hands.

“Little bastard.” Noctis snarls, bracing for another swing. This one hits just as Gladio and Ignis join the fray, Ignis making a quick swipe at the third goblin who’s near the feet of the collapsed figure.

“Gladio,” he calls out, “Take care not to hit the girl.”

“You got it.” Gladio booms, hitting the daemon with a surprising elegance. 

Finally, Noctis’ polearm lands through the daemon when he lures it far enough away to leap into the air with a clean warp strike. It fades in a puff of smoke and Noctis throws back his weapon, shaking his hand free once it has found its resting place once again.

Ignis and Prompto are already on their knees in the muck, pulling the half-submerged body from the water. The Prince stills, watching them with an expression of dread as he does so. 

_Another one,_ he thinks, _too late, just like you are for everyone…_

But, then, a cough shatters the silence like glass, and the figure is perching up on her forearms, blindly reaching for a blade. It’s a sheer illogical panic that Noctis himself recognizes and he steps forward as Ignis calms the girl with his dulcet voice.

“It’s alright madam,” he says, attempting to help her expel the rest of the water from her lungs as she coughs. “We mean you no harm. A curative, Noct?”

“Huh? Sure.” He replies, handing Ignis an elixir, but as soon as it breaks over her, she only continues to cough and sputter like a nearly drowned sailor.

Kneeling before her, Noctis waits for the onslaught of coughing to subside. He can feel the presence of her chocobo at his side, and the bird steps carefully towards her, moving to nudge her arms with its beak. 

“It’s…okay, Icky.” She says, gasping as she puts her arms around Icarus’ great neck, and the bird attempts to help her to her feet, but she stumbles again. Noctis unthinkingly reaches out to steady her, hands going out to touch her waist.

Quickly, he moves his hands to her forearms as she sways, and he looks up at her, finally able to get a good glimpse of her face. Mud is caked on her nose and cheeks, and her eyes are watering profusely. Her hair clings to her skin and for a moment Noctis thinks that she resembles the wild humans that he often saw in picture books as a child, the type that lived among the wilderness, and had talking Garulas as friends.

“Take it easy,” he instructs, holding tighter to her arms. They gaze at one another for what seems like an eternity, and she swallows, squinting at him as if trying to see him clearly. 

“You come, for no one…” she whispers, her voice pained.

Before Noctis can even sputter out an indignant _what_ , she’s collapsing, sagging against him, and he falls back, holding the wild woman to his chest.

 “Noct! You okay?” Gladio asks, and he nods. 

“I, uh…I think so.” He responds, pushing himself up into a sitting position as Ignis moves forward to ease her off of him. He feels her damp, muddy hand slide off of his neck, and he shivers.

“Perhaps she’s been confused in some way, a toxin perhaps?” Ignis suggests, rising to his feet in order to lift her onto Icarus’ back. “Either way, Noctis report back to Dave. I suggest we make camp, it’s too risky to take her all the way back to Meldacio.”

 They make their way towards a campsite, Noctis groaning quietly when it begins to rain as he walks beside Icarus. His pace has slowed now that he has his owner slumped onto his back and reaches over to glance at her, noting with slight relief that she’s still breathing.

“Wonder what she was doing out here?” Prompto muses.

“Uh, hunting.” Noctis responds, “I mean, she is a hunter after all.”

“She was supposed to rendezvous with Dave at the Hammerhead,” Ignis says curtly, pocketing his glasses lest they get any more rainwater on them.

“Maybe something caught her eye?” Gladio suggests.

The four escort the chocobo up onto the campsite cliff, Noctis breathing in relief. Icarus nudges his shoulders and looks at him expectantly. Frowning in confusion he blinks blearily at the bird.

“What’s the matter?”

Icarus looks at him tilting his great raven head as he clicks his beak. 

“Oh, uh…I don’t have any more treats buddy.” Noctis says, reaching up to pat the bird. Ignis and Gladio are already beginning to set up the tent and the rest of the gear. Prompto is snapping a few photos and Noctis swipes at him.

“Cut it out.”

“Dude, I have to at least get a few shots of this guy,” he says motioning to the bird. “He’s really somethin’”

“Yeah, hungry.” Noctis responds, laughing when Icarus moves to nip playfully at Prompto’s hair. “Seems like he thinks you’re his twin.”

“My hair does not look like a bird butt!” He says indignantly, but then freezes as the girl on the chocobo’s back begins to stir, a tiny sound coming from her mouth as she does so. 

“Uh, hey,” Prompto says, walking to her side. “You uh, awake, Leia?

She mumbles something again, her mouth muffled against feathers. Prompto looks quizzically at Noctis who shrugs. 

“Sounded like she said she needs to sleep.”

“Uh Noct…is she sleeping like… _in_ the tent with _us_?” Prompto whispers, looking scandalized for the second time today.

“There’s plenty of room,” Ignis calls, busying himself with the fire and meal.

Noctis shrugs again. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever slept in the same room as a girl. Iris had camped out with them for a few days before. But the thought of sleeping in the same tent as this woman made Noctis feel slightly on edge. Leia or whatever her name was didn’t seem entirely with it at the moment, and her words rang in his mind.

_You come for no one._

What did that even mean? He comes for no one? They’d come for her, hadn’t they?

“Noct,” Gladio says, his tone exasperated. “Are you and Prompto just going to make goo-goo eyes at that bird or help me pitch this tent?”

The pair of friends move to help the shield pitch up the tent. It’s busywork, made harder by the slick nature of the rain, causing Noctis to lose his grip on the canvas several times and cause it to flop ungracefully to the ground. But, once Ignis has finished with dinner, they manage to put up the tent in a way that’s half decent and will hold up through the night, even with their odd fifth party.

Icarus has moved his owner closer to the fire, and she’s halfway slid off his back, slumbering quite peacefully in front of the warm glow.

“Best not wake her.” Ignis says, handing each of them a few bowl of stew. “She can eat in the morning.”

They eat mostly in silence, Noctis offering Icarus a few stray vegetables from his own meal which the bird gobbles up gratefully, careful not to disturb his mistress. 

However, come bedtime, the chocobo’s gentle demeanor changes drastically.

“Six, shut it up.” Gladio growls, throwing his jacket over his face in an expression of defeat.

Outside of the tent, the chocobo caws and stomps, bumping his head against the canvas flap. He’d reacted okay, up until Gladio had moved Leia into the tent, and since then, all hell had broken loose. 

Noctis tries not to hear the bird clattering in Ignis’ pots and pans, throwing a tantrum by the sound of it, huffing and glaring at the slumbering girl in the corner of the tent near his feet.

“Let’s just throw her outside with him.” Noctis grumbles, covering his face childishly with his arm. 

“Uh wow Noct,” Prompto says from his side. He’s the only one who seems unperturbed by the noise, playing a game of King’s Knight on his phone, the light illuminating his face and making him resemble a ghost.“Kinda rude.” 

“That bird’s the one who’s rude!” He snaps in return.

“Maybe we should just show him she’s okay in here.” Prompto suggests, and Noctis rolls his eyes, crawling towards the zipper with a sleepy determination. He unzips the tent just enough to poke his head out of the canvas.

Icarus who currently has a frying pan in his beak turns to Noctis, and lets out a mighty squawk, and rushes to Noctis, bumping their skulls together with a loud clunk.

“Ow, shit.” He swears, leaning back as the bird forces his head into the tent. However, realizing that his body can’t also fit inside, he flops down dramatically, letting out a soft cry. 

“Aww.” Prompto says sympathetically.

“Not aww,” Noctis hisses.

“Look!” he whispers, pointing at the slumbering woman, “There’s your owner. She’s fine. Shut up.”

The bird turns his gaze towards his mistress, and lets out a soft caw, closing his great golden eyes. The Prince puts his face in his hands, groaning as he slumps to the floor of the tent, finally able to fall asleep.

For once, he sleeps dreamlessly, the sound of the ocean lulling him to sleep. Funny…he hadn’t heard that sound in such a long time.


	2. Chapter Two

The sound of metal clanking against rocky terrain is what pulls Noctis out of sleep. He’s not what one would consider a _light_ sleeper by any stretch of the imagination, and he lets out an irritated groan. To his left, Prompto stirs, half mumbling. His freckled cheek is pressed against the dim glow of his phone, King’s Knight’s cheerful theme still playing softly, though muffled.

He turns lazily, cheek against the burlap canvas of the tent, taking a moment to remove a stray candy wrapper from the side of his face. Gladio is snoring as per usual near the entrance of the tent and shifts slightly as another clang springs outside. He grunts but doesn’t move, and Noctis rolls his eyes. Even Ignis, who is the lightest sleeper of the bunch hasn’t awoken, and briefly, Noctis wonders if maybe he’d helped himself to a bit of whatever lay dormant in his coat flask.

Cursing to himself, Noctis lazily moves to sit upward, causing Prompto’s arm to slide off his shoulder as the memories of the previous day come flooding back to him. That wild woman and her pet bird, that’s right…where was she? He glanced at the spot she’d previously occupied, and the burlap bottom of the tent though wrinkled was empty.

Dragging himself to his feet, Noctis moves to poke his head out of the tent, half hoping that it was just a stray cat rather than their odd rescue of the day.

He was _disappointed_ , to say the least.

The bird, Icarus looks to be saddled up and ready to go, and his mistress currently was digging through pockets of their worn clothing.

“Hey! _Hey_!” Noctis calls sharply when he notices her hand fishing in the back pocket of his muddy jeans.

Unthinkingly, Noctis picks up a small pebble near his bare foot and throws it, warping directly to her side and snatching the offending article of clothing away from her, cheeks flaming.

At his sudden appearance, she lets out a yelp, falling back as her hands scrabble for the knife at her waist.

“Easy, easy!” Noctis says, trying and failing to hide the irritation in his tone as he brandishes his jeans at her. “What do you _think_ you’re doing?”

She stares up at him from where she’s fallen, her eyes wide, and as the sun begins to peek over the terrain, he realizes he’s finally getting a good look at her face for the first time. Her skin is much cleaner, and her light brown hair no longer has twigs tangled in it. It’s pulled back into a very tiny ponytail, though her hair was not long enough to keep within the confines and a few strands dust her face.

She looked almost normal, save for the deep jagged scar, and the fact that her eyes are different colors, green and blue.

_Like the sea._

The thought comes unbidden in his mind, and he shakes his head free of it and gazes at her expectantly.

“ _Well_?”

“Well what?” she sneers, moving to her feet with a grace that Noctis did not expect. Dusting her hands on her cargo pants, she stares at him intently. “Where are my keys?”

If Noctis actually had any clue what she was speaking about, he knew there was no way he would be able to lie to someone with a gaze like that. He rubs the back of his neck and glances at his dusty bare feet.

“I dunno,” he says, tone a little sullen, “Keys to what?”

“Car keys! My car keys!” she says exasperatedly.

“Dunno.” He says again.

She stares at him, and he glances away from the intensity of her expression, skin prickling.

“You sure don’t know much.” She fires back.

“Hey look, we _saved_ your life!” Noctis snaps incredulously, all his princely composure forgotten, “Least you could do was…I don’t know, say thanks! Unbelievable!”

“Say thanks to who?” she retorts, eyes widening “I woke up surrounded by strange men, and my poor Chocobo was halfway stuck in your tent, crying!”

“ _You_ were the one who wandered out into the _Vesperpool_. Dave and that old lady sent us to find you when your pet wandered back to Meldacio alone!” Noctis says sharply, pleased when the haughty wildling falls silent, chewing at her lip.

“The Vesperpool.. but...I was on my way to Hammerhead.” She says finally, thick eyebrows knitting in confusion. She appraises him for a moment, and Noctis stands very still, allowing her to look for a lie in his eyes. It was a move he was intimately familiar with from Ignis. Her little mouth twists, biting her own cheek, her expression almost frightened.

“You okay?” he asks, more sympathetic than he intends. At her distress, the Chocobo moves to her side, nudging her head with his own, and she reaches out to stroke the glossy black feathers on his neck.

“Look,” he says, shuffling his feet, “My name is Noctis.”

At his spoken words, Icarus the Chocobo lets out a soft chirrup and stretches his neck over to nip at his hair.

“Cut it out buddy,” Noctis says, unable to keep himself from smiling. “I don’t have treats for you.”

Icarus lets out a fluttering caw and nudges his mistress’ elbow, kicking at the dirt. She pats his beak and gives Noctis another haughty look which he promptly returns. After a moment, She mounts the bird easily, and for a split second, the sun catches her profile, making her resemble an impressionistic old painting of a noblewoman rather than the dust-covered hunter she was.

“My name is Leia. Noctis, _you_ are going to help me find my keys. We’re going to the Vesperpool.” She commands.

The Crown Prince stares at her, utterly insulted by her bravado. Who did this woman _think_ she was, bossing him around like he was some kind of commoner? Though, she was Dave’s adopted daughter, which he supposed might give her the upper hand among her fellow hunters. For all she knew, Noctis and his friends were hunters too, though still cutting their teeth on the prospect.

What was it Ignis had said, that royal rank carried little meaning outside of the crown city?

Maybe this was just a really blunt example of that.

“Fine.” He says after a moment, “Just let me get dressed, fix my hair.”

 

The sun is beginning to sit midway in the sky now, the brilliant pink of the sunrise shifting to a saccharine orange, and it only did a few favors for the murky waters of the Vesperpool. Noctis’ own boots were caked in muck and he grumbles, kicking a few flakes haphazardly off of his heel.

Snooty Leia had insisted Noctis walk beside her like some kind of escort, rather than let him on the back of her beloved bird, though he was sure that there was more than enough room on the Chocobo's ample body.

She hadn’t spoken much, and in truth, Noctis was too tired to carry on a conversation with his ill-gotten rescue through the swampy terrain. Brushing through the trees and brambles was much easier in the light of day, without the fear of death nipping at his heels.

Had he been with his companions, it might have even been pleasant.

“Well, this is it,” Noctis says, motioning to the muddy trail where he and his friends had found her. The dark, wet earth still carried signs of their struggle and he gazes up at her expectantly, almost irritated.

She dismounts Icarus, distracted, thrusting his lead in Noctis’ hand with nary a word as if he is her servant rather than her savior.

Leia moves forward with a cool stride, kneeling down to study the marks in the mud, tracing a hand through the dirt and feeling it with her fingers, contemplation heavy on her brow. She kneels there, forearm on her knee and gazes off into the distance for a moment, before turning back to the Prince.

“You found me here?”

Noctis nods, placing his hands on his hips, “Yeah, thought you were dead, to be honest. See your keys?”

Leia shakes her head and gnaws on her lip. She looks perplexed, almost enough to cry, and again, Noctis feels a strange surge of sympathy for her.

“I mean, you had a lot of Goblins around you, maybe they made off with ‘em?” He offers.

At the word Goblin, she lets out an almost involuntary little shudder of distaste, rubbing her arms thoughtfully.

“Damn.” She says, mostly to herself. Icarus crows softly, and unthinkingly Noctis reaches over to stroke his neck soothingly.

“Car keys can be replaced.” He says, shrugging. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to Dave,” she grumbles, looking sheepish, “He’ll about as pleased as a Sabertusk with a hurt ear.”

“I’m sure he’ll be more glad to know you’re alive,” Noctis says flatly.

After all, what wouldn’t he give for one more moment with everyone that he’d lost within the past few months? One more lecture from his father seemed awfully appealing, and for a moment, Noctis couldn’t help but feel rather jealous of the other hunter. He wanted to display that to her but wasn’t entirely sure how to do so.

“I mean, at least he cares enough to lecture you right?” Noctis offers, “You could end up missing that stuff one day.”

Leia rolls her eyes in response, and annoyance replaces his previous desire to impart some of his wisdom on loss.

His phone, however, beeps and shrills from his pocket, startling Icarus, who stomps his feet in irritation, prompting the hunter to move forward to calm the great bird.

“Hello?” Noctis says, not bothering to read the name. He knows who it is without having to look.

“Noct!” Ignis’ voice is a bit shrill and clipped and Noctis lets out a small sigh, “I’m fine Ignis.”

Gladio can be heard in the background swearing, while Prompto frolics and fusses at the whole debacle.

“Where are you?” Ignis says, his tone all business, and Noctis is no stranger to the fact that Ignis’ voice carries with it the promise of a stern lecture later.

“Helping uh…hunter girl,” Noctis says glancing at the hunter with a shrug. She frowns at him, rolling her head along her shoulders.

“My name is Leia.” She hisses, but the Prince waves her off.

“She lost her keys, and asked for my help looking for them,” Noctis explains.

“I didn’t ask for your help!” she interjects, but she’s promptly ignored.

“We can’t find ‘em. We’re at the spot where we found her last night. Might wanna hurry getting here, unless you don’t want to run into some big grouchy birds. Okay. Yes, Ignis. I know. Okay. Okay. Bye.” He says, pocketing the phone before his advisor can begin lecturing him on the importance of alerting his party to his every move.

“The guys are on their way.” Noctis informs Leia, “You can thank them for their help when they get here.”

Leia looks miffed, but to Noctis surprise, doesn’t object to the suggestion, reaching over to pet Icarus’ beak.

She’s quiet for a moment, then glances at Noctis, “Thanks, I guess.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Noctis says, kicking at the mud sheepishly. So much for making her feel indebted to him.

The two of them fall silent for a moment, and she gives him a sidelong glance. “Icarus likes you.”

“I like him too,” Noctis says honestly. That seems to please the Chocobo's owner, and for the first time since they’ve met, Leia smiles.

To the Prince’s surprise, a smile seemingly does wonders for Leia’s face, brightening her cheeks, and it’s infectious enough that he can’t help but smile back at her. The Chocobo between them trills quietly and nips at both of their hair, and she laughs, soft, shy.

Their moment is interrupted though, by the sound of men rustling through the leaves.

“Noct!” Ignis calls, once he catches sight of the Prince. “Are you alright?”

Noctis rolls his eyes, stepping back from Leia and Icarus and moves towards the group with an immature exasperation as they surround him like a herd of Garula surrounding their young. “I’m fine.”

“Dude, Noct, coulda woken us.” Prompto quips, voice bright and cheery despite their situation.

“Completely out of line,” Gladio says gruffly, shaking his head as he wipes his brow. “Nearly gave Ignis and I some kind of heart attack.”

“I’m sor-” Noctis begins, rising irritation in his throat as his eyes meet Gladio’s own, challenge apparent in them, but is interrupted by the hunter, who is watching this preening display with a mix of amusement and confusion.

“What are you all, his keepers?” she asks, brushing the loose hair in her face behind an ear, laughing as she shakes her head, “Never seen a bunch of guys fuss over each other like that.”

The statement is enough to send Prompto blushing and stuttering, and even Gladio seems taken aback, rubbing his hair with an uncharacteristic embarrassment.

Ignis, true to his nature only pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Forgive me, my lady, but Noctis is the Crown Prince of Lucis, and it is our duty to assure his safety at all times.”

“Uh, thought we were hunters,” Noctis says stiffly, surprised at how his advisor has flippantly given up his identity with nary a thought to who their rescue might be. Ignis, however, fixes Noctis with a stern look.

“Well, Majesty, we can’t have you being led off to mischief when your very life could be at stake. As Dave’s daughter, I am sure she is a trustworthy person to us.”

Noctis turns to her, suddenly taken aback by her expression.

Leia’s eyes are wide, and she shivers all over, staring at Noctis as if she’s only just seeing him for the first time. He expects her to drop into a regal bow, pledging her loyalty to him but she doesn’t, only stares, trembling.

“Hard to be around greatness?” Noctis asks sarcastically.

“I think you mean a great big nerd.” Prompto counters.

Noctis swats at him, and the gunslinger laughs but Leia doesn’t take her eyes off of the Prince. After a few more excruciating seconds, she clears her throat, remembering herself. Her voice sounds raw, almost pained.

“The Prince…I…of course.”

Her hands wring for a moment, twisting and moving to display her open palms, as if she wants to reach out and touch Noctis’ arm, but she keeps her distance, even taking a step back from them. 

  
“Madam,” Ignis says, not unkindly, “Are you really, quite alright?”

Leia collects herself, the brief window of emotion suddenly gone as quickly as it had appeared, and she sighs.

“Sorry for causing trouble. Thanks.”

“Can I pet your bird?” Prompto asks, breaking the tension and she smiles, moving aside to allow him to move towards them. To her surprise, Prompto takes a moment to snap a photograph of her, and she blinks, startled.

Icarus, however, is fascinated by the device, moving towards Prompto and going to nudge the camera with his beak, tilting his head to and fro along with the motions. His owner, however, watches this, bewildered, taking a moment to tuck the stray strands of hair behind her ear.

“He doesn’t usually like other people.” She states.

“We gave him some Chocobo feed!” Prompto says by way of explanation but she doesn’t look remotely satisfied by this.

“Jealous?” Noctis asks. He means it as a joke, at least partially, but she only looks at him quizzically as if seeing him for the first time.

Of course, I am, you’re royalty. Her expression seems to say, and all at once, Noctis feels a surge of stupidity. As if they could relate to one another.

He heaves out a breath, stretching. Such was the life of a royal, everyone changed as soon as they found out who he was. Prompto was the only one who treated him like somebody normal, and for a moment he feels a sprig of gratitude for his friendships. How lonely it would be without them all at his side.

It takes a while, Prompto as per usual seems taken with Leia and he’s busy showing her a few photos which she responds to politely enough, though she doesn’t seem to enjoy having her picture taken, hand moving up to cover her nose shyly.

“Nothin’ to be ashamed of.” Gladio offers.

However, some prodding from Ignis cuts this short, and the five of them walk together towards the campsite, gathering their things. Leia seems to be much lighter than before, especially towards Prompto, and even allows him to place a few of his items on her bird’s back for easier carrying.

As they return to Meldacio, easy conversation filling the air, Noctis is surprised to see two hunters sprinting towards them, awe and perhaps a mix of jubilation on their faces. For a brief second, Noctis assumes that they are running towards him, and stops, bemused.

However, Leia moves forward upon Icarus, jumping down from her post while a young portly man playfully shoves her arm, and another male hunter ruffles her hair in a way that reminds Noctis of Gladio, and he huffs, surprised.

“Must be glad to have her back unharmed,” Ignis says, watching the reunion.

“Yeah,” Prompto chimes in, “She must be like family, considering she’s Dave’s daughter.”

“Gotta say Noct,” Gladio murmurs, “That was a good call you made, going to rescue her last night. She probably would have died had we not arrived when we did.”

“A decision fit for a King,” Ignis responds, a note of pride in his voice that only serves to make Noctis’ cheeks flame up.

The Crown Prince waves off his court with a mild hand gesture. The thought that they could have been bringing back a dead body to the camp instead of escorting the living Leia back to her family makes Noctis’ throat burn strangely.

He moves forward to join her, though he’s not sure why feeling as if he’s a puppet on strings. The urge to be near her is almost an instinct, something primal in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t notice, but for the briefest moment, his eyes flash an incandescent pink.

It seems to take ages, but as he reaches her, the two other hunters are moved aside by a walking stick. They part respectfully, murmuring apologies and Ezma faces Leia, her wizened features stern.

Leia stiffens and bites her lip reproachfully as if expecting a lecture.

Ezma tilts her glasses and leans close as if to get a good look at her, reaching up with a gnarled hand to move her chin this way and that. She pulls Leia’s head down to gaze into her eyes and then snorts.

“Girl, you know better than to run off like that.” She croaks, and Leia’s green and blue eyes tilt downward thoroughly chastised by the old woman.

“Sorry.” She says, her tone clipped and Ezma nudges Leia’s ankle with her cane.

“You boys want somethin’ to eat?” She asks, taking notice of Noctis and the others with a Daggerquill’s gaze.

“Sure!” Prompto says enthusiastically before Noctis can decline the offer. “I’m starved, how about you guys?”

“I could go for a bite,” Gladio responds, ignoring the annoyed expression Noctis shoots at his backside.

The last thing he wants to do is sit among these dirty hunters with Ezma and Leia, and though he appreciates the kindness, he can’t help but feel that there is some steely interrogation awaiting him. As much as he and the others had tried to help the hunters where they could, Noctis couldn’t help but feel the divide between them. After all, they were spawned initially from those who had left behind the Kingsglaive, the safety of the Wall and its city to keep order among the masses.

It had not exactly been a betrayal of the Crown, but hunters were oft looked down upon as a low-class branch of the glaives and the Crownsguard. He felt apart from them, not better or worse, but there was a distinct feeling of being an outsider that had always served to make him uncomfortable especially when dawning his black Crownsguard attire, among the brown and grey hues of the hunters.

“Isn’t it a little early for lunch?” Noctis says dryly.

“Well, if you hadn’t run amuck earlier today, we might have all gotten a chance to have something to eat.” Ignis says reproachfully, “It would be unwise to turn down such hospitality.”

“It wasn’t my idea,” Noctis mutters, but his complaint goes unnoticed by the others who are beginning to follow the old woman towards the small cabin. Leia moves to help Ezma up the few steps, but she swats the girl away, though, from the hunter’s expression, he can only assume it is good-natured.

They step inside the little cabin, taking care to wipe their feet on the worn tweed mat in front of the doorway.

The cottage is quaint, a large circular table dominating much of the space, though beyond it there is a small white sofa with little lavender flowers dotting the fabric beneath two handmade crochet pillows in soft pink.

On a rickety table to the left, Noctis notes an old fashioned radio, sitting beside a worn brown leather armchair, a pile of knitting left askew.

“Careful Noct,” Gladio says quietly, a hand on the Prince’s back, and Noctis turns to see a small altar set up for the Six, with Ramuh in a position of prominence judging by the piece of lightning struck birchwood in the center of the table. There is a small dish of water, and another bearing a few sprigs of daisies, though the leaves are beginning to dry.

Beyond this sitting area is a tiny kitchen, an old fashioned wood stove, and an industrial sink. There’s a small corridor with a few rooms, but Noctis stays put, shuffling his feet awkwardly along with his troop of friends.

  
“Get em’ some hot tea, girl,” Ezma says, as she begins to fuss about in the kitchen.

“Make yourselves at home,” Leia says, though she doesn’t exactly seem to mean it.

Their ragtag group moves to go sit at the table, shuffling about in chairs, and Noctis nearly loses his composure at the sight of Gladio taking enough space for two people. Prompto seems to notice this too, and nudges Noctis’ shoulder, causing them to snicker together like teenagers.

“May I help you in the kitchen madam?” Ignis calls, and Ezma studies him a moment before nodding in agreeance. “Come on’ wash yer’ hands first.”

Occupied, Ignis moves forward, which prompts Gladio to ask Leia about the bathroom, leaving him and Prompto to stare at their hands awkwardly before pulling out their phones and beginning a game of King’s Knight

“I feel like I’m being brought home to meet a girl’s parents.” Prompto whispers.

“As if a girl’s ever brought you home.” Noctis retorts, smirking when the blonde pokes his tongue out impishly, but they fall silent when Leia returns. She moves past Noctis to the tiny altar near the window and replaces the daisies before lighting a small cone of incense, the scent wafting around the room. She bends her head, hands cupped outwards, and Noctis glances at Prompto who shrugs.

Since experiencing the deities for himself, the need to pray, or worship seemed to fall to the wayside. After all, having his whole life torn upside down by the so-called “grace of the Gods” seemed to put a damper on things.

In truth though, he’d never really given much thought to how those outside the Crown City might worship the Six. The Citadel had its own temple to Bahamut, and Noctis knew through word of mouth that Insomnia had a few temples to boast of, though none as grand as the one he grew up within.

Leia finishes her prayer quietly enough, turning and moving back towards the kitchen with a steady gait, and for just a second Noctis could swear that he sees her eyes turn a faint yellow. However, he shakes it off, owing it to tiredness rather than anything out of sorts.

Noctis toys with his phone for a few moments, before shoving it in his pocket. As he does so, Gladio returns, sitting with as much dignity he can muster.

Propping his head up on the table, Noctis’ eyes begin to close and he lets himself drift, the smoky floral scent of incense filling his nose.

 

_“You believe she’s still out there, don’t you boy?”_

_He nods, small childish face urgent, almost desperate._

_“Then, one day we’ll find her, you and me Prince. We’ll save her.”_

 

The clink of china on wood jolts Noctis out of sleep and he blinks up blearily to see Leia pouring him tea from a chipped Altissian teapot, and he rubs his eyes, murmuring an apology.

The tea is hot enough to burn his tongue, but he drinks it anyway, trying to flush out the thought of the old Crownsguard, surely long dead by now. It’s an earl gray tea, his favorite and he can’t help but be pleased that the bergamot note is particularly strong.

“It’s good.” He states dumbly but Leia doesn’t respond, pouring Gladio’s tea with a little more force than was strictly needed.

However, as soon as she’s about to take a seat with them Ezma is calling her to carry plates, despite Ignis’ well-meaning protests.

“No no,” Ezma says, shooing him out of the kitchen, her tone much warmer than before. “You boys rest. Least she can do is bring you some food.”

Once everyone is seated and plated, (Noctis noting with amusement that Ignis stands until both women are seated) Ezma bows her head, expecting them all to do the same.

“Bless us Fulgarian who sends the tide in his wake, blessed be you who bring these bounties to our shore.”

As Ezma speaks, Noctis can’t help but open his eyes. To his surprise Leia catches his eye and then looks away, hands firmly in her lap, unlike the rest, she does not pray.

“And we give you praise, for not allowing our dear Leia to be lost to sea.” Ezma finishes.

They eat quietly, and he’s pleased to find a hearty meat pie sitting before him. It’s delicious, and soon the table is filled with polite chatter that warms Noctis’ heart. He has not had a meal at a table in longer than he can remember, Citadel meals with his father seem to be a long forgotten thing of the past.

Ezma’s business side with the hunters Noctis soon learns is a powerful front, but not an all-consuming one, and she pats Leia’s arm kindly before pulling out a pipe, which Gladio lights for her, utterly charmed.

“Come now Guppy,” she says not unkindly, “Go on, call David and tell him ya lost the keys.”

Leia groans, “But…”

“Best get it done with,” Ezma says coolly, a puff of smoke blowing through her thin lips. “Don’t make it any worse.”

“Easy for you to say.” Leia quips sharply.

“Here,” Ignis says kindly, reaching into his breast pocket in order to hand her his phone. “Cindy’s number is already programmed in.”

She dials the number, speaking tersely with Dave on the other end of the phone. She barely gets in a goodbye before he hangs up, and she sighs, looking stressed.

She rubs her temples with a slender hand, and glances up at the group of boys. Somehow, Noctis knows what to expect

“Uh…can I hitch a ride with you guys to Hammerhead since I can’t drive myself?”

“Bet you wish you had those keys,” Noctis says, teasingly.

“I’m not sure.” She says, and for a moment she's far away where Noctis cannot reach her. 


End file.
